


Not Bonobos

by CrowsAtAPicnic



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Asexuality, Fluff, M/M, augh how do you write emotions
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-04
Updated: 2013-07-04
Packaged: 2017-12-17 16:13:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,820
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/869463
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CrowsAtAPicnic/pseuds/CrowsAtAPicnic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>John's kisses slowed, and you felt him tense up a little before he slowly pulled back and looked at you with an expression you hadn't seen him wear before. You read apprehension, discomfort, shame, and-- fuck, was that fear? They flashed across his face in a matter of moments before he replaced them with a determined seriousness. Something was up. Fuck.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Not Bonobos

     It had started out as your regular Friday movie night, but about halfway through a shitty action movie you'd picked at random both of you realized that this movie was not holding your attention. This realization came when John pulled away from your lips and started chuckling to himself.

    "What?" you murmured, trailing your fingers lightly down the sides of his torso under his shirt. 

    "Dave. What's the main character's name?"

    "In what?" you asked blankly, then remembered that you were, in theory, having movie night. "Shit, you can't sit me in a dark room next to a sweet pair of Egbert buns and expect me to pay attention to a glowy square for two hours."

    John grins and turns off the TV, then throws the remote onto the unoccupied easy chair in the corner. "Fair enough." A few seconds later he's sitting in your lap and running his fingers through your hair and fuck you barely remember the TV was ever on. You let your hands come to a stop at his hips, where you give a little squeeze and pull him closer so that he has no choice but to shift his weight forward and wrap his legs around your waist. Your noses bump clumsily together and your tongues wrestle each other back and forth between your mouths, and you can't help but emit a small moan when he gives small tugs at your hair. 

    "John," you mumble into the corner of his mouth. He gives a small hum to show he's listening, kissing along your jaw line down towards your neck. 

    "Exactly how far are you willing to go tonight. Because I am ready to stand up right now, walk you to the bedroom, and introduce you to my Justice League bed sheets." You're half-hard already. You've been dating John for upwards towards eight months now and you haven't even let your fingers wander below his belt because he's made it clear that he wants to take it slow, and you figured he'd make the first move when he was ready. But he seems pretty into it tonight and you are more than ready. Fuck, you were ready the first time you saw those sapphire eyes in person, squinting up at you because his enormous dorky smile didn't leave enough room for them on his face. 

    John's kisses slowed, and you felt him tense up a little before he slowly pulled back and looked at you with an expression you hadn't seen him wear before. You read apprehension, discomfort, shame, and-- fuck, was that fear? They flashed across his face in a matter of moments before he replaced them with a determined seriousness. Something was up. Fuck. 

    "Did I say something wrong?" you prompt gently, lifting a hand to brush against his cheek in what you hoped was a comforting way. Comforting was not your strong suit-- hell, it wasn't even in your repertoire for your first 13 years of existence. But something told you that John needed honest, unironic support right now and you'd be damned before you denied him that. 

    He took a deep breath and sat back onto your thighs, running a hand through his already hopelessly disheveled shock of ebony hair. 

    "I guess now is as good a time as any to have this discussion," he sighs, then pauses. He looks you straight in the eyes, blue to red.

    "Dave, I'm asexual."

***

    "What?" You broke the stretching silence, looking at John's face. He looked like he just confessed to murder, and you had to admit it felt a little like you'd been punched in the gut. Not two minutes ago you were making out with him. He was making out with you. He had _crawled into your lap,_ for fuck's sake. All this time-- 

    John opened his mouth to reply, but all that came out was a shaky exhale before his  face crumpled."I'm so sorry!”

_What?_

    “I should have told you sooner, but it never came up, and this is a horrible time to have waited this long and I'm he world's shittiest boyfriend, it's me, and oh my god Dave I'm so sorry I've been leading you on like this--"

    You put a finger on his lips because he's babbling and you can't have babbling in your ears when you're trying to dig your way out of the ton of bricks that just dropped on your head and oh christ now he's crying. 

    "Whoa, John, no fuck don't--" you feel a knot tie itself at the back of your throat when he looks at you with the biggest, most guilty eyes you've ever seen, and ton of bricks aside this is John he's not allowed to be sad, especially not when you're capable of making him smile. You gather him up in your arms and hug him as tight as you think he can stand, rocking gently back and forth. 

    "Shh, John, don't cry... Please don't cry, I was just surprised... Shh..."

    You wait until he stops shaking to loosen up your hold on him, stroking his hair and placing a kiss on top of his head. He sniffles and looks up at you, eyes still watery but no longer brimming over. 

    "I'm really sorry," he whispers, and he can't meet your eyes. 

    "Hey." You tilt his chin up and stare into his eyes. Your shades were discarded when you first started kissing, and for once you're grateful you don't have them on. He needs to see you in full candor. This is not something you can fuck up. 

    "Hey. Listen to me, Egbert. Never apologize for who you are. Not ever. You are John Egbert and you are mother fucking perfect, and nothing you say or do will ever convince me otherwise. Do not say you're sorry for being you."

    He slowly meets your eyes, and you feel someone sweep away a layer from your ton of bricks when you see a spark of hope in his eyes. 

    "Secondly, _I_ want to apologize... If I've ever made you feel pressured to do something you didn't want to do, or done something you didn't like, or--"

    "Oh shit no Dave it's not like that!" John quickly cuts in, and you're grateful, because you could feel yourself start to slip into a ramble because you felt absolutely shitty for not realizing it sooner. You knew John better than anybody. You knew him better than yourself in some ways. All the signs were there. You were just too dense to put the pieces together.

    "It's not like that at all. You've been perfect. Dave, are you listening to me?"

    You blink your eyes to focus again. "We were making out. You were in my lap. I'm not trying to be insensitive here, but usually that means a bit of scoodlypooping is imminent." You grimace. Your word choice always gets dodgy when you're under emotional stress. Striders do not have practice with emotional stress. "Can you... Can you explain your limits to me? In detail? To be perfectly honest I am more than a little confused right now."

    John nods, but you see some tension leave his shoulders as he registers that you're not angry, you just need some clarification. 

    "That's... understandable." He pauses, gathering the right words. "So sexuality is like a gradient, right? At least, that's the way Rose explained it to me when I was going through that 'not a homosexual' phase." You let out a small laugh. He was sitting in the lap of his boyfriend of eight months, and frankly you were glad he had worked through his phase because you don't know where you'd be without him. 

    "Go on," you say, and another layer of bricks is cleared away when he gives you a small smile. 

    "So if you're at the completely saturated end of the spectrum, you are a sex machine. You are humping like rabbits. You are bonging like bonobos. You are--" You shoot him a look, and his grin grows marginally, but he takes the hint and moves on. 

    "If you're completely unsaturated, you never want to touch another human being. You are disgusted at the mention of genitalia, and you'd pass out if you heard porn playing within five miles of your person. I am somewhere in the middle."

    You nod, finding it easy to understand despite John's... _interesting_ descriptions. You suppose some of your speaking habits have rubbed off on him. Oops. 

    "So you like cuddling, and kissing, and even making out?" you ask. 

    "I love making out," he says with a devilish grin. There's your John. You grin back, glad he's recovering. Your bricks have sprouted wings and are now flying through the sky in a majestic flock of red avian clay. It was a beautiful mental image. 

    "I just... I don't know, sexual attraction just doesn't happen for me. The thought of someone touching around down there kind of grosses me out." He grimaces and looks down at his hands. You take hold of them and give a little squeeze.

    "I'm glad you told me. Do not hesitate to tell me if I ever make you uncomfortable, okay?" John nods. 

    "Conversely," you let a smile curl back onto your lips, "do not hesitate to tell me if you want me to aid you with something. I know that you like it when I give your ears some attention."

    John blushes, smiling sheepishly at you. 

    "You're okay with this, then? I don't want you to feel like this relationship isn't real because we don't... You know."

    "Bong like bonobos?" 

    John laughs. "Exatly."

    "I have never felt so connected to any other person, ever," you tell him, serious again. "I don't need sex to know that I love you, or to know that you love me."

    When you say that, John's face splits into a full-on Egbert grin, oversized teeth and squinty eyes and dimples and everything. And you'd never been happier to see it. 

    "Um. Just to clarify one last thing..." Your face suddenly seems warmer than usual. "If I start experiencing, er, pressure... Would you be disgusted if I, um. Took care of it by myself?"

    John's face had a weird mix of amused and embarrassed. "You do whatever you need to do, Dave, I won't love you any less. Just... Don't make me watch or anything." Nope, the embarrassment won out.  911, yes hello, my boyfriend’s face is on fire. Yessir, tomato red.  

    Your face wasn't peaches and cream either, but you laughed and in the end you were pulling John into your lap again and he was snuggling into your chest and wow you were suddenly very tired. You supposed emotions do that to people. 

    You had just let your eyes drift closed when John spoke again. 

    "Hey, Dave?"

    "Mm."

    "I love you. And... Thank you."

    You smiled, eyes still closed. "I love you too, John. I always will."

**Author's Note:**

> Ok wow thanks for reading that. It kind of just bled out of my fingers as two o'clock last night and I'm rushing to edit it before I leave for a road trip today. Please let me know if you find any mistakes, and constructive criticism is always appreciated!


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